Radioactive
by fairydustx
Summary: One shot. What happens when Santana ends up spending one of Pucks infamous parties with the one and only Quinn Fabray? Rated M for drug use, expletives and horny teenagers. Featuring Skank!Quinn


**Authors Note:  
I was halfway through writing chapter 5 of The Orchid Lounge and going through a bit of a writers block when I opened up a new word document and just started writing this Quinntana one shot. I haven't given up on TOL, but just needed a change of pace while I think about what I should write next. I'm also desperate to write something from Santana's P.O.V, which I haven't done in a while. There are mentions of Pucktana in this fic, but it is primarily Quinntana. Warning: drug use, sexual tension and expletives ahead. If you don't like any of those things then I suggest leaving now, afores I ends you.**

**In response to an anon review, I just wanted to add - if you find any problems in this story with my tenses, narration, grammar or use of British slang in this story; I wrote this at 1 AM and uploaded it straight away. In my defense, I'm also unfamiliar with American slang seeing as I've lived around British people for the entirety of my life, and I write without a beta so I apologise if a few mistakes sneak their way into my writing. If you do find any mistakes, rather than just telling me that I've made them, I would appreciate it if you could tell me where they are so I can go back and remove/change them. Thanks.**

* * *

Radioactive

Puck lived on the rich side of Lima. His house was huge and his parents were always out on business trips, enabling him to hold parties almost every weekend.

It was a warm Friday night when Santana walked down the path leading up to the Puckerman mansion. The tall Latina was wearing a ripped grey vest, tiny faux leather shorts and a pair of black high-heeled shoes. Her tanned legs looked like they went on forever and her glossy dark hair curled right underneath her enhanced breasts. She was hot as fuck, and sure as hell knew how to work it. The brunette pushed on the front door, and it swung open, revealing another one of Puck's crazy parties.

A group of girls were sat on the stairs in their Cheerio uniforms, sharing a bottle between them and gossiping fervently. Half of the football team was playing some stupid ass drinking game on the other side of the room, involving a lot of irritatingly loud shouting. Santana quickly moved through the crowd and into the living room, where she knew she would probably find the drinks, and maybe even some of the good stuff. She knew Puck associated with dealers, and relied on him to sort her out. He gave it to her free of charge. Well, actually, she paid him with sex. Their relationship was all kinds of awesome.

The room was packed full of sweaty teenagers grinding against each other to some Rihanna song. Santana scanned the room, feeling a little frustrated when she didn't spot a tall mohawked figure. Pouring herself a drink of straight vodka, she strode through the house, continuing her search. As she walked, she felt the gaze of boys and girls alike lingering on her admiringly. Rather than feeling self conscious, the Latina flipped her hair over her shoulder and grinned, loving the attention.

Santana knew Puck's house like the back of her hand. The pair had been really close friends for years, and she knew all of his favourite spots to hang out. They had done the dirty in just about every single one of his one hundred and something rooms. Including the Jacuzzi. Santana grinned at the memory, and pulled open two glass sliding doors.

The Latina stepped out into the cold night air and immediately wrapped her arms around herself. She heard the murmur of voices from the far end of the garden, and spotting a mohawked head amongst the group, she quickened her pace. Puck was sat around a campfire with a bunch of girls. What a surprise. As she neared the crowd, the Latina recognized the girls as an infamous friendship group in her school. They called themselves 'The Skanks'. They thought they were badass as hell just because they smoked a joint or two on occasion and skipped classes. Ronnie, Sheila, The Mack, and their leader, Quinn Fabray, raised their eyebrows at Puck's attempts to seduce them.

The brunette fought off her immediate instincts to leave when she noticed Puck passing around a lit joint. She sidled over to Puck and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Guess who?" Santana murmured into his ear, and he spun around, grinning.

"My free shag of the night?" Puck guessed, only to be met with a fond slap across the head.

Ronnie raised her eyebrows at the exchange. "Hoepez. How nice of you to join us." She remarked sarcastically.

Santana glared across the fire at her. "Shut it, dumpy. Want me to call up mommy walrus and let her know how her offspring spends her time away from the pack?" When Santana didn't receive a reply, she grinned. "Didn't think so. Now why don't you waddle back to the ocean from whence you came."

The Mack turned her head to look at Quinn. "Want me to beat her up?" She asked.

Quinn didn't reply. She was staring across the fire at the Latina, sizing her up. Her hazel eyes moved down the darker girl's body and then flickered back up to her face. Santana felt her breath catch in her throat as she noticed the way the light from the fire danced in those hazel-green hues. Quinn brought the joint up to her lips and breathed in, closing her eyes as the smoke entered her lungs. Her expression was that of pure bliss as the drug entered her body.

Puck grinned and punched the air with the arm that was not wrapped around Santana. "Girl fight!" Santana rolled her eyes and lifted her cup of vodka to her lips, taking a sip. She swallowed hard, enjoying the bitter taste and the burning sensation at the back of her throat. It provided a nice distraction from the dull throb between her legs caused by the way that Quinn Fabray was leaning her head back, exposing a sliver of pale throat.

A silence lingered in the air as the pink-haired girl expelled smoke into the dark night and turned to face The Mack. "She's not worth it." She murmured, voice low and raspy.

Puck picked up a can of beer off of the ground beside him, and lifted it to his mouth, gulping loudly. Sure, Santana liked Puck. He was relatively hot and better in bed than most guys his age. But boy, could he be revolting. He finished the can, burping and lifting it into the air triumphantly. "Spin the bottle?" He asked, grinning.

Santana raised an eyebrow and shoved him slightly. "No way in hell is that happening. I'm all for a little girl-on-girl action, but these lips are going nowhere near the washed up losers you see before you."

"Say that again. I dare you." Sheila hissed.

"Oops. Didn't mean to offend. I'm just thinking with a safety first mentality. I don't want to have to pull someone out of your fat rolls."

"That's it!" She growled, standing up. Quinn put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down again. For some reason, Sheila allowed herself to be bossed about by Quinn. Santana wondered what she had over the other Skanks.

Quinn passed the fast shrinking joint to Ronnie, who was stood beside her. She sucked on it for a few minutes, before dropping it on the fire. "Got anymore of those, Puckerman?" She asked.

Puck waggled his eyebrows. "I'll get you more. For a price."

"Name it."

Puck grinned. Santana sucked in her bottom lip. She knew what was coming.

"All five of you. In my bed." He eyed the girls one by one, signature sleazy smile in place.

Each of The Skanks' faces mirrored each other – shock and disgust. Quinn however, appeared not to be affected by Puck's words. She was back to staring at Santana, arms folded across her chest.

Puck held his hands up in mock surrender. He obviously hadn't expected that response, and tried to bluff his way out of it. "Just kidding, jeez!" He turned around to look down at Santana. "You know where my stash is, babe. Go and get us some weed."

"Fine." She sighed, unraveling herself from Puckerman and stepping away from the warmth of the fire.

A low voice husks out, "I'll go with her. To make sure she gets enough."

Quinn Fabray fell into step beside Santana. They walked side-by-side back towards the house in an uncomfortable silence. Santana cleared her throat. "So um… Fabray. Let's be real. Why are you really joining me on my quest for the good stuff?" Santana questioned. Quinn simply quirked one perfectly plucked eyebrow and opened the back doors to Puckerman's house. Santana frowned, waving a hand in front of the other girls' face. "Hello… Earth to Skunk Girl! Anybody in there?"

Quinn tilted her head to the side. "Actually, we're The_ Skanks." _She corrected, stepping inside of the house and dodging a group of footballers running into the garden.

Santana stepped into the building, pulling the door closed behind her. "Can you hear the sound of me really not caring?" She asked, moving to step in front of the other girl. Her arm brushed against Quinn's, and she sharply pulled away, their brief contact having left a trail of tingles on the darker girls' skin. She swallowed, rubbing her arm in an attempt to rid herself of the feeling. Oh hells to the no. This was so not happening. There was no way she was getting _tingles _over Quinn fucking Fabray

"Follow me." She called over her shoulder, leading Quinn through the crowd. They climbed up two flights of stairs, and the Latina lead Quinn into what she could only presume from the posters on the wall was Puckerman's bedroom.

"Very classy…" Quinn smirked, eyeing the naked women pinned on the wall.

Santana kneeled on the floor and pulled a box out from under Puck's bed. "Yep, well that's Puck for you." She handed Quinn the box. "And there you have it. His 'secret stash'." She said, making fake quotation marks in the air.

Quinn opened the box and peered inside curiously. "Nice…" She muttered. She snapped the box shut and ran a hand through her messy pink hair. "What would you say to splitting this between the two of us and making this a real party?" She suddenly asked, catching Santana by surprise.

The Latina smiled, folding her arms. "I'd say you're not half as boring as I thought you were, Q."

* * *

Santana was lying beside Quinn on Puck's roof, gazing up at the clear night sky. "You know…sometimes I think we're all just one with the stars...or something…" She mused, playing unconsciously with the hem of her vest.

Quinn groaned, "Please don't go all Rachel Berry on me with the star crap."

Santana chuckled lightly. "I'm serious." She rolled over to look at Quinn. "Especially you."

Quinn smiled happily. "Thank you." She whispered. The smile actually reached her eyes and it was the first time Santana had ever seen the girl express such vivid emotion. She picked up the almost empty box and gazed inside. "Looks like we've got enough left for one more joint."

"Hit me." Santana replied, still staring at Quinn. The whole world seemed to just _stop._ In that moment, all that existed was her and Quinn Fabray and the stars. She watched as the shorter girl rolled the herbs up and then flicked Puck's lighter. The flame glowed so brightly. And then it was gone. Quinn leaned back, staring up at the sky. She brought the joint to her lips and sucked on it, filling her lungs with smoke.

Santana leaned forward and ran one finger along Q's lower lip. It was so soft and moist and suddenly all she wanted was to feel those lips on her own. So she climbed over Quinn and shifted herself so that her knees were on either side of the other girls' waist. Quinn's gaze shifted and she examined the Latina curiously.

Santana plucked the joint from Q's mouth, and placed it in her own, breathing in. Quinn let out an objecting squeak but then Santana was leaning down so that her and Quinn were so close that they could feel the ghosts of each others lips. It was then that Santana breathed out, smoke filling the space between them.

Suddenly dark red lips collided with pink, and they were kissing. It was deep and passionate and started a fire within the Latina's stomach. Her hands fisted pink hair and she pulled, causing Quinn to growl and roll over, shifting their position. Santana wasn't sure how long they stayed up on that roof, just kissing. It could have been days, or it could have been minutes. All she knew was that it felt_ so_ right.

All too soon Quinn was pulling away, and yanking Santana upright by her hand. She opened the latch of the window they had used to get up onto the roof and jumped inside, pulling Santana with her. The two girls were giggling breathlessly as they made their way back down to the party, hand in hand.

They stumbled down the stairs and into the living room, falling all over each other. "Dance with me." Quinn's hazel eyes sparkled and she pulled a nodding Santana into the crowd. The bass was thumping so hard they could feel it vibrating through their bodies.

Quinn pulled Santana roughly by the hand so that their bodies were flush against each other, and began to move to the beat. Her hands were running all over the Latina's body, yanking at her clothes and leaving a trail of fire with her touch. Santana spun in her arms so that her ass was grinding into Quinn's core. Quinn felt a familiar throbbing begin there as the brunette moved her body expertly against hers. The Latina leaned back in Quinn's arms, moaning quietly. Quinn took this as an opportunity to latch onto her throat, biting and sucking the skin there. She thoroughly enjoyed the tiny whimpering sounds emitted by the brunette as she ran her experienced fingers down Santana's stomach. The Latina's panties pooled with wetness when Quinn's hands cupped her sex. She was wet as fuck and she knew that Q could feel it by the way she chuckled into her ear.

Quinn opened her eyes and noticed for the first time that they had an audience of footballers whistling and barely covering their boners as they watched the two girls run their hands all over each other. So she pulled hard on Santana's hand and dragged her out of the party.

"Where are we going?" Santana asked.

"Somewhere I can fuck you without an audience."


End file.
